


I'll Keep Pretending We Aren't Just Going in Circles

by sugiraku



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugiraku/pseuds/sugiraku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patchouli and Alice dance around their attraction to eachother as they have in the past; Marisa interferes with Patchouli's ritual and unleashes a sealed power</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Keep Pretending We Aren't Just Going in Circles

****The book was like an old friend: the worn leather of its cover felt like bitter nostalgia in her hands and the parchment threatened to rend itself at even the most delicate touch, desiring, inexorably, to join all the other fragments of her past. Patchouli shuddered thinking about what kind of end it would meet if it ever fell into the hands of that careless magician; special precautions had to be taken when handling a book like this, not only to protect oneself from the contents, but to preserve its earthly form. Of course, she had ignored one of these herself when she touched it with her bare hands, but that was the briefest indulgence, one she couldn't resist, and the book now floated in front of her as she returned to her table.

Patchouli Knowledge fancied herself as the only person in Gensokyo who could appreciate a book such as this, or truly appreciate any book. Any scholar before her who saw them as more just than repositories had long since passed into the dust that that covered her most ancient volumes. No, books were more than that, they were bound memories, language given physical form, and the very act of inscribing them was a powerful ritual in the right hands. Hands such as hers, hands such as those that had created the book in front of her. There was only one other person who had any hope of understanding this in Patchouli's estimation.

“Hey yo, Patchy!” and it certainly wasn't the person that voice belonged to. Marisa Kirisame would never be able to appreciate anything delicate or subtle; she had about as much subtlety as that cannon of a spell she insisted on using at every opportunity. “Whatcha readin'?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, neither answering nor looking up from her book.

Marisa shrugged and floated down on her broomstick, hopping off as she reached the ground. “Reimu was tryin' to get me to help her with the New Year's cleaning. Had to hide somewhere.”

“New Year's isn't for another six months,” Patchouli said flatly. Humans were strange enough to keep such dates in her estimation, let alone to break them so flippantly. However, she didn't want to comment more than that and compel Marisa further into conversation. Even that much was a risk.

“That's what I said!” Marisa put her hands behind her head and leaned back on her heels. “I think she was just trying whatever she could to get me to help. I wouldn't mind but I gotta preserve my freeloader reputation.” Marisa smiled her characteristically self-satisfied grin and Patchouli thought there was no danger of her ever losing that reputation. “So what are you reading? Looks old,” she said leaning over the book.

“It is.” Patchouli finally turned her head and tried to say with her expression And I'd appreciate it if you'd back up. Marisa either didn't catch the meaning or didn't care.

“I don't recognize those characters, what are they?” She reached her hand to point at them but Patchouli swatted it away.

“Of course you don't. And I don't feel like explaining them to you.”

“Well geez. You're extra sour today. What, you mistake ink for tea or somethin'?”

No I was just expecting some peace and quiet to study, Patchouli thought. But just thought. She wasn't sure why she didn't say it, there was no way it would affect that brash magician in the slightest. Still it seemed like too great a breach of etiquette. “I'm just busy and you're interrupting.”

Marisa laughed genially, “Alright, alright. Even I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’ll just got take a look at some other books then.”

“Mmm,” Patchouli said, turning back to her book. She didn’t start reading though, she waited until she was sure Marisa was gone and looked over. That human, she was always such a bother. Who knew what kind of mess she was getting herself into already, the fact that Patchouli hadn’t heard a crash yet, in the short thirty seconds Marisa had been on her own, was surprising and disconcerting. Patchouli would have loved nothing more than to keep her out of the library permanently, but unfortunately that wasn’t really possible. As someone perpetually unwanted she had learned how to easily break into places she didn’t belong. No matter how many seals and traps Patchouli had put up she would always get through with seeming ease, showing up with that unwavering smile on her face, acting as if it had all just been a game.

And always at the most inopportune times. Patchouli sighed and tried to forget about Marisa and return to her studies. The black moon she had been preparing for was fast approaching and if she missed this opportunity it would be several years before a black moon again fell in the seventh calendar month, rendering all her work useless. After centuries of study it was almost time for her to leave her own mark on Gensokyo. To inscribe her name next to all the great magicians from the past she revered. And the book she had before her was the final key to that.

Of all the books in the library it was perhaps the most important. It was the soul-made-flesh, all the knowledge and power of a millennia-old witch given coporeal form. That was why it was written in a script and language unlike anything natural, something that had taken Patchouli decades to decipher. And here she was, approaching the night on which she would be able to unbind the power encased in this form and give it true flesh: nothing as frail and stolid as parchment. And to have Marisa here while she prepared for such a ritual set her on edge in ways she couldn’t remember experiencing before.

***

Some years earlier.

 

 It was spring. At least Patchouli thought it was spring. As of late she had trouble keeping track of time. Her life was full of long nights cloistered in the dark, not sleeping or muttering even a word for days at a time, reading by candlelight in long-unused rooms in the manor, accompanied only by cobwebs and dust and a cool draft that skirted the borderline of pure silence. Her work was driving her to a state of delirium so much so that when she finally stepped outside, for the first time in maybe a year, she couldn’t really parse her surroundings into any definable season. What was spring? What signified spring? She couldn’t tell anymore. All she saw looking around was incoherent data saying something that would have been evident to anyone else.

This was why she forced herself to finally leave the manor. She was losing touch with reality. Or at least with this reality, with the reality she shared with everyone else in Gensokyo. She needed grounding. She needed to breathe air that wasn’t stale and heavy with dust, she needed to see the sun as it fell below the horizon, to be surrounded by life at the peak of its energy rather than the words and forms of things long since dead. If only for a moment. Even at this late hour, at the onset of quiescence, the hills around the manor were bustling with activity. It was exactly the change of pace Patchouli needed to retain her sanity.

She walked down the path that ran along the lake for some time. The sky reddened as the sun sang its own vespers and then night deepened across the face of the world. Gensokyo stilled and the wind coming off the lake cooled sharply. Patchouli folded her arms and kept them close to her body, but she did not turn around. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but it actually felt good to get out from time to time.

She kept walking until she reached the other side of the lake. Behind her the Scarlet Devil Mansion loomed over everything from its ridge. She had descended quite a bit without knowing it and the path was now level with the shore of the lake. It had been some time since Patchouli had found herself in the valley where most people in Gensokyo lived. If her eyesight were better she might have been able to see the lights of the human village in the distance before they finally faded out for the night. She turned around feeling refreshed, her purpose fulfilled.

As she walked back her thoughts were consumed with her work. She hadn’t lost much time doing this, necessary as it was, but she had lost some and she would need to make that back up. She was preparing for something, her own declaration of greatness to rival all others that had come before her, and although she was still in the early stages of preparation, she couldn’t allow herself to falter. She was focused on what her next step would be when she got back to the manor when she heard a voice further down the path.

“Patchouli?” it asked.

She looked up and saw Alice approaching her in her slow, elegant way. She held a stately composure that belied her true nature. Still, though Patchouli knew well it was a facade she couldn’t resist being drawn in by it.

“I stopped by the library, Koakuma said you were out for a walk which didn’t really seem like you,” she said, “Here you are though, I almost thought she was lying.”

“I can’t spend all my time poring over books in the dark, as much as I’d like to.” Patchouli paused and motioned with her hand to suggest they start walking back, and when they did she said, “What was it you needed at the library?”

“Advice mostly.”

“Advice?” Alice was usually too proud to ask for advice and nothing piqued Patchouli’s curiosity like a novel situation.

Alice laughed at that in her light way, brief but with a subtle haughtiness. “Don’t be that surprised. I thought if you could help me with my research I might be able to help you with yours.”

That made more sense to Patchouli. Couch it in terms of something mutually beneficial. Still, it wasn’t as if she had no respect for Alice. She was a young magician but already quite powerful: if they fought Patchouli knew she would lose. Of course battle wasn’t where Patchouli’s interests lay, but still, it wasn’t inconceivable that Alice might be of some use to her someday.

“I’d have to know what you’re working on first,” she said.

“Of course. Are you busy right now? I can explain it to you once we get back to the library.”

That seemed like a good idea to her.

***

Alice had never been in Patchouli’s study before. She didn’t think many people had besides, maybe, Koakuma. It was obvious that none of the maids were allowed in here. The walls were lined with shelves filled with both arcane texts and jars of the most obscure reagents. Books that didn’t fit were stacked on the floor, sometimes a dozen high. Everything was covered in dust. The chandelier looked like it hadn’t been used in decades and was almost completely wrapped in cobwebs; the only light in the room came from the candle on Patchouli’s desk.

Alice flipped through the pages of the book open on the desk. It was filled with diagrams and invocations, mostly about how spells could be woven together to augment eachother, and then onto the laborious and dangerous process of undoing them, separating them into their distinct magical threads. It was very technical, exactly what one would expect from Patchouli. Although Alice had some skill at merging very different spells she had never attempted to reverse the process so delicately as to maintain each spell’s individual integrity. She hadn’t even known it could be done. She turned back to where the book had been, not wanting to be caught snooping, and waited for Patchouli to return.

After some time the door opened, the candlelight fluttered, and Patchouli stepped in carrying a tray of tea.

“I don’t normally get the tea myself. It took a while to find everything,” she said, setting the tray on the desk and moving the book onto one of the large piles nearby. Alice could picture Koakuma nervously knocking on the door in the late hours of the night, bringing tea to a Patchouli who was completely absorbed in her research.

“It’s alright,” Alice said, taking the cup Patchouli poured for her. “I’d probably get lost just trying to find the pantry.” She took a sip of the tea; it was bitter, probably it had been steeped too long. She didnt let it show on her face though.

“You said you wanted my help with something?” Patchouli asked. That was just like her, Alice thought, cutting right through the pleasantries.

She watched Patchouli raise her cup to her lips, soft and unadorned, her skin like the porcelain of the cup, like one of Alice’s dolls. Was that the reason for it? Was Patchouli just another doll to her? She suppressed a smirk, there had to be more to it than that.

“I…” Alice paused trying to retain her composure. This was what she wanted right? She’d spent days thinking about this preparing for it. It was too late to back out now. Trying to keep her composure right now was a mistake; this was the time to let it slip if there ever was any. She could feel her breathing get shallow at the thought of it, but she started anyway, “I want to create a puppet that isn’t a puppet. I want to make something truly alive. I’ve spent years making the same thing, more and more elaborate dolls meant to do my bidding exactly. I have to move forward. There’s no point in living if I never do anything but the same thing I always have been doing.”

“You don’t need my help for that,” Patchouli said with the same lack of emotion she always had. Alice could see that behind her matter-of-fact stare she was thinking of something else. She was right though, that was something Alice could do on her own, and if she wanted to truly evolve maybe it was something she had to. And yet still, she had to push this further.

“I could make something autonomous, that’s true. I wouldn’t need help with that. But I don’t want to stop there. I want to push the boundaries of what can be done. I might stillbe able to do that on my own, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin with research. You could at least point me in the right direction.”

Patchouli sat silently for sometime, and Alice sat across from her, determination on her face. Eventually Patchouli spoke. “I suppose I could help.”

***

In the present.

 

Marisa could smell one last seal. It was well hidden; Patchouli was getting craftier with them; it was almost like she actually wanted to keep her out. Marisa waved her hand in front of it and it became visible. This is a really interesting one, she thought while looking it over. She was almost tempted to activate it to see exactly what it would do. Some of the inscriptions were difficult for her to make out, but from what she understood it would create a pocket dimension. Knowing Patchouli’s love of subtlety it would probably be a replica of the library itself. Marisa grinned to herself. It was a shame she had other things to do because she would have had a great time seeing if she could escape from it. Working quickly and silently she detached the seal from the window and placed it somewhere harmless on the wall. Then she opened the window and flew inside.

There was no better way to pique Marisa’s curiosity than to show her something she didn’t understand. Even worse if you told her there was no way she ever would. Patchouli should have known that, so in a way it was almost her own fault that Marisa was about to steal it. If she could find it. The library of the Scarlet Devil Mansion was huge, it’d take a good twenty minutes to walk from one end to the other. On top of that she wasn’t even sure exactly what it was she was looking for and it presented an almost impossible task. That just added to the excitement. “If only I knew what kind of spell was on that book this would be easy,” she muttered under her breath. But if she knew that then there wouldn’t have been much reason to take it in the first place. She floated between the shelves trying not to touch anything for fear of disturbing some hidden seal. “Ah, wish I would’ve been able to put a charm on it when I had the chance.”

She at least knew what section it was in, Patchouli wouldn’t have carried a book like that all the way across the library, and she knew pretty well what it looked like. The library was dark though: all the candles had been extinguished hours ago by Koakuma, but Marisa didn’t want to use a light charm either, Patchouli was sure to still be awake and it would be just her luck that’d she be roaming around at this hour. It’d also have been her luck if Patchouli had the book with her in her study, but Marisa didn’t want to admit that to herself. She grinned to herself and pulled a potion of illumination from her bag. At least there was this.

She had been searching for some time—trying to sniff out unfamiliar enchantments was hard when almost every book in the library had some spell cast on it—when she heard the distinctive sound of the mansions door creak open. She could hear two sets of voices, both speaking in hushed tones so she couldn’t make out who they were. But they had to be Patchouli and Koakuma. Who else would be in the library this late? She wondered how on guard Patchouli was, and how well she’d have to mask her presence if she wanted to get closer, which of course she did. Too impatient for real caution and worried that any spell would alert them, she approached without any precautions other than silence.

She got as close as she dared, still sitting on her broom, and saw Patchouli and Alice sitting together at one of the tables. That was a surprise, and further they were sitting quite close together, even though Patchouli was well known for not liking her personal space violated. She was sitting in a chair and Alice was sitting on the table only a few inches from her, swinging her legs casually. It was hard to make out what they were saying and Marisa strained to hear.

“I can help you find some of the stuff you need but you really shouldn’t have waited until a week before your ritual to get everything together,” Alice said. “Do you think you’ll be ready?”

“I have to be.”

Alice smiled and it was so genuine and honest. She had never smiled at Marisa like that before. “That’s just like you.” She hopped down from the table. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then she moved behind the chair and wrapped her arms around Patchouli. She leaned in close and whispered something in her ear, but Marisa couldn’t make out what she said.

Marisa didn’t want to see anymore. So that’s how it is, she thought to herself. She couldn’t imagine anyone getting close to Patchouli but she couldnt deny what she’d seen. And Alice. She’d thought…

“Nevermind all that, I’ll just find the book and get out of here,” she said to herself.

***

Some years earlier.

 

Alice had spent the entire morning cleaning her house. Even though Patchouli spent most of her time in a library full of cobwebs and dust Alice still wanted to make an impression as fastidious. This was the first time Patchouli had ever been over to her house and everything needed to be impeccable. Maybe if it was someone else it would have been clean enough, it wasn’t like it had been dirty, but Patchouli was hard to impress and easy to disappoint. She even had her dolls join in on the effort: they could get into places that she could not. By the time evening rolled around everything was in order, not only was the house spotless but every decoration had been placed exactly where it was best. Her books were in order, new flowers were in every vase, chosen specifically for their beauty and their magical properties, statuary had been placed where it looked most pleasing. Externally then, she was ready for Patchouli to arrive. Internally, though, she still was not sure how far she was going to take things. Patchouli was coming on the pretense of helping her with her work, and Alice didn’t know if she should just leave it at that for now.

The last hour or so was the worst. Before she’d had all that cleaning to keep her mind occupied but after that it was just herself, her dolls, a cup of tea, and waiting. She tried to remain composed and keep her mind clear and steady, but she ended up spending most of the time fretting over trivialities. Moving this flower a few inches to the left, making sure her books were flush against one another but not so tight as to be impossible to remove. Things no calm person would worry about, things she knew she need not worry about. But even still, they kept her from having to address the thing that was truly making her nervous and therefore provided her some measure of psychological comfort.

She was in the process of adjusting everything in a cupboard that would not possibly be opened when she heard a faint knock at the door. She quickly finished and answered it. It was Patchouli. She stood stiff and courteous and tried to smile as warmly as possible. There was one thing Alice had known from years of being herself: that if you faked ease on the outside then eventually it would come on the inside as well.

“Thank you for coming over. Let me show you to my workshop,” Alice said, leading her into the cottage. She knew Patchouli wouldn’t want to dawdle around with pleasantries. Patchouli nodded without comment and Alice walked through the kitchen and downstairs to her workshop. It was her first time taking someone down here. The back wall was covered in shelves absolutely packed with dolls in various states of completion. Along the rest of the walls were tables, most covered with various supplies: fabrics, paint, porcelain slip, plaster for making molds, ritual candles and salt for imbuing magic into the dolls. Everything was organized to the point it looked like it was simply for display. In truth this was where Alice spent most of her time.

Alice led Patchouli over to her work table, upon which was a nearly finished doll sitting underneath a mounted magnifying glass. On the doll’s chest, so finely it would have been almost impossible to see without the magnifying glass, a magic seal had been engraved and then filled with electrum dust. Alice motioned her hand to the doll. “I can’t get it to work. The seal won’t complete and last time I tried to do it the doll shattered into hundreds of fragments. I was barely able to contain it.”

Patchouli sat down at the table without a word and began examining the seal. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out several vials and a piece of parchment. Both vials contained a powder that Alice did not recognize, but neither did she want to interrupt by asking what it was. Patchouli opened one and began pouring the dust lightly over the seal Alice had been working on. There was a puff of smoke and then nothing. Patchouli shot up though and Alice didn’t think she’d ever seen her move that fast.

“Get back,” Patchouli said. And as Alice did so fissures began to form in the doll’s surface, as if it were going to shatter violently like the first one had, but just at the moment it looked like it was going to burst, the doll turned to ash on the table.

“What was that?” Alice asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with your seals. Something’s interfering with their activation.” Patchouli began to look around the room deep in concentration. She moved dolls aside to look at the wall behind them, looked underneath several of the tables, and even closely examined Alice’s engraving knife. It didn’t look like she came up with anything concrete. “It’s not down here.” Patchouli grabbed her bag from the table and walked upstairs. Alice followed her up and out the front door.

“If something was strong enough to interfere from all the way out here wouldn’t one of us have felt it?” Alice said.

“Not necessarily,” she said reaching into her bag and pulling out a dowsing rod of maple. Incantations and seals had been delicately carved into the wood and Alice wondered if Patchouli had a steady enough hand to have done it herself. Patchouli took the rod, and with her eyes closed she began to walk over to the kiln.

“The dolls hadn’t been fired yet.” Patchouli didn’t say anything, she just kept walking, hoping for a response from the rod.

Night had almost fallen completely. All that was left of the sun’s light was a sinking peach band in the western sky. It wasn’t exactly safe to be out in the Forest of Magic this late at night, even for Alice. She hoped nothing dangerous would emerge to threaten them. Already the sounds of the night were beginning: the hum and chirp of crickets, the slow wind brushing past the trees, the calls of night birds never before seen by human or youkai. Still, the area around Alice’s house was relatively safe and creatures, be it night or day, usually left her in peace. That knowledge didn’t much help the uneasy feeling rising in Alice’s stomach however.

Patchouli kept at it for at least forty minutes, searching as much of the area around the cottage as she could without going too deep into the treeline. As focused as she was on finding the source of interference it was clear she was on some level aware of the dangers the forest presented, especially at night. Eventually she lowered her rod and returned it to her bag.

“Any ideas now?” Alice asked. Her feelings about the situation had calmed, but were still more intense than was really warranted.

“Yes. Two things. The first would be some kind of pollen, but that seems unlikely since your workshop is all the way in the basement.”

“What’s the second?”

“Follow me,” Patchouli went back inside and then all the way back down to the basement. Once there she grabbed the bottle of electrum on the workbench. “Is this everything you have?” she asked. Alice nodded. “Then I’m taking this with me. I don’t have everything I need to analyze it here.”

“Of course, that’s fine. Are you leaving now then?”

“I was going to. Why, was there anything else?”

Alice felt like this was the last chance she would ever have to say anything. She knew it wasn’t, she absolutely knew it wasn’t, but somehow she still felt that way. Still she said no and Patchouli grabbed her bag and went back upstairs.

“I’ll let you know what I find tomorrow,” she said and turned around and began heading out the door. That’s when something snapped in Alice and she grabbed Patchouli by the wrist without even thinking about it. There wasn’t time to second guess herself here or to be nervous or to overthink. Now that she’d acted she had to follow through.

“Wait,” she said.

Patchouli looked back at her expectantly and for the first time that night Alice found herself admiring her beauty, something she had done again and again. But in Patchouli’s eyes there was a look that said she didn’t know what Alice had to say, and because of that look Alice knew she would spend tonight alone, devastated.

“Don’t you feel like there’s anything between us?”

Patchouli’s voice was flat and monotone. “Not really,” she said.

Alice sunk and let go of her wrist. She laughed quietly, bitterly. “Yeah. I knew you were going to say that. Of course you would say that.” Alice regretted letting down her facade, even for the moment she had done it. It always ended up like this, it was always painful. And yet every so often she would pretend to believe it would be otherwise. One day she would stop doing this to herself. “Sorry,” she said and she turned around. “Thanks for the help. Let me know what you find out.”

As she started to walk away she felt Patchouli’s hand on her wrist. Her grip was delicate, almost ethereal. “What do you see in me?” she asked.

Alice turned and looked at her, swallowing hard. “That you understand me, and that I don’t think there’s anyone else who could.” Patchouli’s expression softened. “It’s not much I know, but it was enough for me to want to try. To at least try, if nothing else.”

Patchouli didn’t say anything, instead she just moved closer, stood on her toes, and kissed Alice.

 

***

In the present.

 

Patchouli sat there with Alice’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, relaxing and enjoying the scent of her floral perfume, and she couldn’t say this was unpleasant. But still a vague sense of unease sat inside her, not growing not moving not declaring itself, just sitting, biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to make its intentions known. She had felt it all evening, or maybe for days now without actually noticing it, so dull was its sense of portent. She tried to forget it and just enjoy the moment. But it was always there, trying to become a part of her.

Alice leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Patchouli wasn’t sure she understood it, but it would have ruined the mood to ask her to repeat it. It couldn’t be that important. Alice certainly didn’t seem to expect a reply.

Patchouli knew she should be working, that her time was limited and barely left her a moment to sleep, but she had kept up that pace for weeks now and a few minutes of relaxation couldn’t hurt, and would probably make her perform better.

And so there she was, trying to allow herself to slip into relaxation, when there was a crash on the other side of the library, the sound of several shelves falling over. She shot up from her chair and instantly she felt it. Something had been opened that should not have been, and from the look on Alice’s face she had noticed too. It wasn’t hard to tell where it had come from. There was a brilliant light, shifting from blue to purple to orange cast against the ceiling about two hundred feet away. Furthermore there was a magnificent seal expanding, threatening to engulf the whole library, and it was fast approaching them.

“Try to hold it back! I have to get my grimoire!” Patchouli said and turned to run to her study, but Alice grabbed her by the hand.

“How? I don’t think I can.” Already it was getting hard to hear one another. The hum of the magic was growing to a roar.

“Go get it for me then. It’s in my bag in my study,” Patchouli said and then turned toward the approaching seal. Already it was glowing with ominous ferocity. She had to prevent it from activating or half the manor could be destroyed. She started setting up some suppression seals, which was almost the extent of what she could do without her grimoire. More than half of her power had been bound into that book to amplify it, but it didn’t do her any good if it wasn’t in her hands. The great seal reached the few she had placed but all they could do was stop it from expanding so quickly; they couldn’t halt it, let alone reverse the process. She started walking backwards to try to stay past its border. It was then that Marisa flew past on her broom.

“You! Of course it was you! What the hell did you do?”

Marisa smiled, trying to play it off as only a minor mistake. “Well you know that book you wouldn’t let me look at earlier?”

“That book? Of all the books it had to be that one?” Patchouli was furious. If she somehow managed to contain that book, or rather the soul of that immensely powerful witch, she’d still lose decades of research, ruining the ritual she had been preparing for so long. There was no way she would be able to rebind it to the book exactly the same as it had been before. This wasn’t the time for that though, none of that would matter if she couldn’t prevent the library, and everyone in it, from being destroyed.

“Marisa! Help me suppress it until Alice returns with my grimoire.”

“I don’t know how to do that. If it’s not an explosion I’m not much help. Sorry.”

“Don’t give me that! It’s simple enough even for you. This is your fault remember!” Marisa sighed, looking at first reluctant but then almost serious. She set up several of her own spells, and the great seal’s growth slowed down to a crawl. With it all but halted Patchouli went to work chanting incantations, trying everything she knew to prevent the great seal from activating. Already runes near its border had begun glowing even more strongly, threatening to release their power and start a chain reaction that the three magicians wouldn’t have any chance of preventing.

As Patchouli was sitting there trying to think of what she could do even if she had had her grimoire, Alice returned with it. She doubted she would be able to anything, even with its power. Still just having it in her hands provided her with a surge of confidence.

She levitated above the ground, the book floating in front of her, opening to the pages she wanted without waiting for her command. She had created it centuries ago and it had always served her well. The great seal had already grown immensely powerful; she’d have yelled for Marisa and Alice to leave if she thought there was a chance they could hear her over the din. The soul at its center had already begun absorbing power from the books in the library, reaching the limits of its own strength, which still far surpassed what Patchouli, or even Marisa could output. But Patchouli had one advantage—floating there in the blinding light before something more powerful than anything she had ever directly faced—the soul was only capable of one thought: the desire to grow. Patchouli could outsmart it.

Patchouli looked down at Alice and wondered why she was still standing there. There was nothing more she could do. Maybe she just wanted to see what would happen. Their eyes met and Patchouli smiled for the first time she could remember. Alice clutched her hands together at her chest and Patchouli flew to the center of the seal.

There was no way for her to keep the various spells that made the seal dormant anymore, and they activated as she flew past, destabilizing the magical atmosphere in the library. As she approached the center things became hazy; it was hard for her to breath, harder than normal at least. She could feel the pressure of a fearsome entity pushing her away, yet barely cognizant of her, or of anything else than its own desire to feed. As she got closer and closer the atmosphere became thicker and thicker, harder to penetrate. The swirling masses of energy were hot, so much so that she worried that the silk of her gown might burn away. She could no longer see anything, it was far too bright, but she could feel she was getting closer. Finally she was before it. The soul of a nameless and ageless witch who had bound herself as a book in an age long before anyone could remember. It was an awe-inspiring experience, something that Patchouli had always wanted to see, and it was hard for her to do anything but stand there and take everything in. But she was not in a position where she could sit and observe.

Her plan was relatively simple. First she created a pocket dimension, a mid level seal that she had created many times before, so she was able to do so relatively quickly, trying desperately to outrun the great seals activation. And then, to lure the soul into her trap, she had to create a source of energy greater than any of the remaining books of the library. Thankfully she already had something like that on hand. She shut her eyes, disgusted at how much Marisa had cost her with her interference, and she forced most of her remaining energy into her grimoire and threw it towards the pocket dimension’s seal. Immediately as it passed from her control the grimoire began to disintegrate, its energy being drained and its corporeal form ceasing to exist. It lasted long enough to reach the seal tho, and activate it, by which time Patchouli was already flying away, trying to escape its radius.

It worked. The seal activated and the soul was sucked into the pocket dimension Patchouli had created, which she immediately unmade. Both the soul-made-flesh and her grimoire were, however, lost, and Patchouli was exhausted. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to regain the power she sacrificed today, god forbid she be permanently weakened because of it. When she reached where Alice was standing she fell to the ground. This was far too much exertion for her.

Marisa was already gone.

***

It had been several days of bed rest after the events that night. After only one day Patchouli had felt well enough to move around, but she didn’t see a point in it. For years her motivation to get out of bed had been her research, and now all that had come to nothing. In one moment, decades of work had been undone and it felt like she had been undone with it. So she’d spent the last few days in bed, trying to figure out how she could move forward but it was all a blank. She’d have to change everything, her focus would have to change entirely. There was no going back to how she had been, but she hadn’t asked for this, she hadn’t planned for it. She was unable to see her next step, so she sat in her room pretending that she could prevent its coming.

Finally one day there was a knock at her door. It was a little early for Koakuma to be bringing her lunch, but she said come in anyway. It was a hassle to be bothered, but Koakuma had been doing so much for her she didn’t really have any right to complain. But it wasn’t Koakuma who came into her room, it was Alice. Patchouli wasn’t exactly surprised, she hadn’t seen her since that night, but she’d been hoping it would be a little longer before she showed up, that she’d have a little more time to collect herself. But yet again things had no intention of working on her schedule.

“Hey,” Alice said. It was an awkward greeting for an awkward moment. She obviously didn’t know what else to say and Patchouli didn’t know how to respond. So she didn’t. After a few moments Alice continued. “How are you doing?”

Patchouli shrugged. Alice looked rebuffed and started to take a step back, but she stopped herself and in the end moved closer to the bed. “I’m sorry. I understand it must be hard having lost all that work. Are you at least doing better physically?”

“I’m fine. I was just exhausted. I don’t normally exert myself like that.”

Alice sat down on the side of the bed and put her hand on top of Patchouli’s. Patchouli’s first instinct was to recoil from her, but she suppressed it. Alice didn’t deserve that. She was just trying to help, even if what she was doing wasn’t helping very much at all.

“I was surprised you were able to stop it at all. I thought for sure it had gone too far, gotten too strong, to do anything about. I was worried you were flying to your death in there.”

“I thought the same thing.”

Alice sighed, “I’m sorry, did I come too soon? I knew you wouldn’t want to see me right away but I was worried. Should I have waited longer?” She locked eyes with Patchouli and there was an intensity to her look. It was an odd, quiet kind of intensity. A depth of feeling, of caring, perhaps. It made Patchouli uncomfortable and she had to turn away. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

“I…” she paused. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She could be honest and hurtful or lie and be uncomfortable. There didn’t seem to be any way to put it without hurting Alice’s feelings. Maybe someone else could have, like Sakuya, but Patchouli wasn’t known for her way with words. “I could use a little more time, yes. Things seem to have fallen apart for me and I’m just not… sure where I stand anymore. I need to figure things out again.”

Alice squeezed her hand, “I can help you. I’m here for you, you know.”

“I don’t think this is something you can help with.”

Patchouli knew how Alice would take those words before she said them, she could see the look that would be on her face before it was even there, but there wasn’t anything else to say but the truth. Nothing good would have come from lying she said to herself, right?

“I see,” Alice said and stood up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse. If you do need me then…” She trailed off and went to the door instead of finishing her thought. “I hope you figure things out, Patchouli. I hope the best for you.” And with that she left and Patchouli was in a room that seemed much lonelier than before.

Right?


End file.
